Page 4 of Bewitched

“Answers my question,” Frisco responded.

Bryce landed his drone and folded everything into his pack while the men checked their weapons. “Ready?” Blake said quietly into his mic. He received three affirmations and the group moved into position.

Blake and Bryce moved to the west side of the castle, and Blake let out a small chuckle. “These old stone buildings are a bitch. Smooth as silk and hard to get a hold.” He took his rope out and threw it over the balcony above their heads. “A buddy uses a rubber stopper he invented, and he gave me one. Promised me it would hold all two-hundred-plus pounds of me. Let’s see if he’s right.”

Blake glanced over at his young charge and noticed his look of disbelief. “What else are we going to do?”

“Yes, sir,” Bryce responded.

Blake pulled on the rope and felt it was as secure as it was going to get. Looking up, he grinned. “Just like the high wall back in Coronado.” He pulled the slack out of the rope, hauled himself up the side of the building, and landed as quietly as a cat on the balcony. “Easier than I thought,” he said quietly.

Shaking the rope, he signaled that it was Bryce’s turn. Holding on to the rope, he watched the kid scramble up like he was doing the cargo net on the O-Course. Once Bryce was up and over, Blake pulled the rope up and stored it in his pack. Slinging his gun around, he lowered his NVGs and looked through the window. “Clear.”

Plans often didn’t survive contact with the enemy, but tonight Blake hoped they caught a lucky break. Two women were counting on them, so they needed as much luck as they could get.

Blake spoke quietly into his coms and signaled the start of the mission. “On three.” Quietly he counted, and when he hit three, he and Bryce moved into the building. The women were being held in a room directly across from them if the heat signatures had been correct. Blake moved point across the room and heard a small scuffle downstairs. He assumed that Will and Frisco took care of the Tangos and all they had left was to get the women out of there. As they quietly crossed the hall, Blake held up his hand and stopped at the door. He heard voices and knew the women were still alive.

The third Tango was an unknown element. He had no idea if he was still in the room and what he was armed with. These ISIS assholes were known the carry all kinds of crazy shit. His first instinct was to throw a flashbang and stun everyone. But if the guy was rigged, then he could panic and blow everyone to kingdom come.

The next sixty seconds would determine how well the next couple of hours were going to unfold. Taking a breath, he signaled Bryce to enter on his right hip, which meant they were sweeping the room in a half circle the moment they went through the door. They had surprise in their favor, and he prayed it would be enough.

***

Paige and Amy looked at one another when a thump was heard downstairs. It was followed a moment later by a second thump. Had the terrorists suddenly become clumsy, knocking into walls or something? The man keeping watch over them hadn’t shown any indication that he’d heard the sounds. Whatever was on his phone was holding his interest, and he seemed unconcerned with any possible threats.

“Do you think he’s checking Snapchat?” Paige asked.

Amy looked over and let out a small snort. “I think that goes against everything they hold sacred.”

“Of course it does, which would make the irony unbelievable.” Paige glanced over at their captor and wondered how much he believed in the cause. Whatever that cause was. The men who had dragged them out of the car and shot their driver didn’t seem concerned with Allah. After all, cold-blooded murder was wrong no matter how many holy cloths you wrapped it up in. But of course, that was a very simplistic view of a war that had been in the making for centuries.

She and Amy sitting on the floor in this abandoned building wasn’t going to change the struggle for power in any way. They were just pawns in a game that no one understood and might never end. What must it be like for Muslims, to have terrorists contort their faith in such way? The only thing she could compare it to was what Catholics must’ve experienced during the Inquisition.

Their guard continued to study his phone with much the same concentration Paige’s youngest sister studied her Instagram feed. Whatever was on that little screen had captured his attention fully and made him miss the sound of the door opening. Paige wondered if more terrorists had arrived or the cavalry was coming. Closing her eyes, she sent up a silent prayer and promised to do her best in life if she was spared.

In an instant, two large men swept into the room dressed in black, large assault rifles raised, and heads covered in helmets with NVGs pulled down. They shouted “Nankab,” which meant get down in Arabic. Their captor was stunned momentarily, as his phone slipped from his hands. The two men advanced quickly and continued to shout as they kept their guns pointed at the terrorist’s chest. The larger of the two moved to the right and the other moved to the left. Within seconds the larger one stood between them and their captor. The other man put the terrorist in zip ties and was relieving him of weapons and a tablet.

Paige heard the larger man say, “God damn asshole beating women. What the hell kind of god tells you that’s okay?” Someone had sent in the cavalry and one of them was from Texas. Hearing his accent was like a balm to her battered psyche. Sweet Lord, they might live another day.

“Secure and check if he’s rigged,” the larger soldier commanded as he flipped up his goggles and grinned at the women. “Hey, ladies. We were in the area and thought we’d save you from these ISIS assholes. My name is Lieutenant Commander Blake Carmichael, and the man over there is Lieutenant Bryce Andrews. We’re US Navy SEALs, and we’ve come to take you home.”

“Thank you,” Paige stuttered as she watched the lieutenant lift Amy and slit the binding on her hands and feet with a huge KA-BAR knife. He then repeated the process for her. Shaking her arms out, she felt a wave of dizziness wash over her. Stumbling forward, she was caught in the man’s big hands. Looking up, she found herself mesmerized by his smile.

“What say we get out of here? We have some friends coming by in a Blackhawk in a couple of hours, and we still need to hump it back to the mountain for our exfil.”

“Yes, please,” Amy said quietly.

All Paige could do was nod as she looked up into Lt. Carmichael’s, warm flashing smile. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

“The fucker is rigged to blow. We have ninety seconds to get out of here,” Bryce said as he hit the man on the back of the head with the butt of his gun.

“Clear the building. Explosives ninety seconds,” Lieutenant Commander Carmichael said into his coms.

Bryce spun around, flipped Amy over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold, and dashed toward the door. Blake did the same thing to Paige and flew out of the room. The men clambered down the stairs, and just as they were about to clear the door, a deafening blast filled the air.

As they were thrown into the air from the explosion, Paige briefly wondered if the whole martyr thing ever worked out. Was it possible they showed up in heaven and God told them they had gotten it wrong, and killing people wasn’t the way to achieve everlasting salvation after all? Before the world went black, Paige heard Blake yell, “I got you.”

Please, God, let that be possible.

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